


You're My Cup of Tea

by SnarkyBreeze



Series: Monthly Ficlets [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A Plant Wrote This, Barista Victor Nikiforov, Businessman Katsuki Yuuri, Fluff, M/M, Tea shop AU, That's it, eventual angst, tea and sweaters, that's the fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21527173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnarkyBreeze/pseuds/SnarkyBreeze
Summary: Viktor knew he was attractive; everyone who worked at Rize Cay was.  ‘Cozy, candid, and companionable’ was the mantra he’d written into the codes of both conduct and dress for all the servers, and no one did it better than Viktor.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: Monthly Ficlets [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1370086
Comments: 9
Kudos: 43





	1. Gyokuro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Japanese: 玉 露, "jade dew"). A type of shaded green tea from Japan. It differs from the standard sencha in being grown under the shade rather than the full sun.

Another Tuesday afternoon. Viktor sighed, wiping down the counter as he gazed out into the quiet shop.

The lounge area was a collection of low tables and big poufs, some out in the open and some partitioned off into elevated private rooms, cozy and intimate. The sun shone in over everything, bright and warm as it spilled through high windows. The only other light came from a collection of paper lanterns, star-shaped and glowing in golds and purples above each table.

The kettles were full, the tables were empty, and Viktor couldn’t be bothered as he hummed a little tune and poured his own cup of dark, smoky lapsang souchong.

The chime of bells shook Viktor from his little meditation. He looked toward the door, where a customer he’d never seen before was idling, hovering apprehensively over the threshold. His gaze caught eyes of velvety brown which darted around nervously from behind blue plastic glasses.

“Oh, welcome!” he said with a smile, gathering up a little handbell and a thick, leather-bound book of teas. “Feel free to sit wherever you find most comfortable. I’ll be over in a moment to answer any questions you may have.” He gave the new guest—the new,  _ very handsome _ guest—a little wink as he handed over the menu and the bell. “And of course, whenever you’re ready, just give me a ring.”

There was a soft smile from chapped lips and a barely-whispered “Thank you” before the guest disappeared into one of the tea shop’s private outcoves. As tempted as Viktor was to follow, he stayed behind the counter, an unusual flutter in his chest as he anticipated the ring of the bell.

Guests to the  _ Rize Cay _ tea shop were often trendy, especially in the newly-gentrified college town where Viktor had once been able to make ends meet. He spent his days teasing the cuffs of big, chunky, off-the-shoulder sweaters or offering to hang up wide-brimmed hats, chatting candidly with other twenty-somethings who came in for some western notion of what might have been an eastern atmosphere. Everyone sat on little leather poufs on the floor around low tables, their shoes waiting beneath the little wooden steps that led to the tea rooms, their laptops undoubtedly displaying some sort of homework text or creative endeavor they were seeking to work on. Viktor had updated their seating a little bit since opening, including the more traditional caning chairs and sofas, following Yura’s insistence that “If people wanted to sit on the floor and drink shitty tea, they’d do it in their own damn homes!”

Viktor didn’t think the tea was shitty. After all, he’d curated the menu. He knew just how expensive his selections were, and as such he did his very best to brew them to perfection, to order, every time for every customer. He kept his staff well-trained in this regard. His entire mission was warmth and hospitality.

All of that was to say that this new customer… well, Viktor wasn’t exactly prepared for him. He wasn’t necessarily trendy—not even fashion-conscious, if Viktor had to guess—but those big, velveteen eyes and the curves that hid beneath the cracks of those chapped lips were alluring in a way that Viktor hadn’t had a moment to think about for a long time.

He nearly dropped his cup of tea when he heard the bell ring, thrilled to find the guest had chosen one of the cozier private tables. He pulled out his notebook and dropped to his knees at the low table, now eye-to-eye with the sweet-faced man who was puzzling over the giant menu of options.

It was all part of the design, the intimacy of this setup. Viktor knew he was attractive; everyone who worked at  _ Rize Cay _ was. ‘Cozy, candid, and companionable’ was the mantra he’d written into the codes of both conduct and dress for all the servers, and no one did it better than Viktor.

“Okay, what questions do you have for me?” he asked, resting his cheek on one hand as he spun a pencil in the other. “I’ll do my best to make some recommendations if you have an idea of what you’re looking for!”

Smiles are contagious. He smiled up at the guest and watched him melt into a grin of his own.

“Okay, I do have a few questions.”

His voice was soft but striking, washing over Viktor like the warm, gentle tones of a clarinet, like a low tide in the summer.

“One—Do you have any recommendations? I’m kind of lost. And two—” He looked up to meet Viktor’s gaze. Those dark eyes were actually much lighter than Viktor had caught on to; now that they were turned directly on him, Viktor could see the warmth of the sunset in the gold striations of his irises. “—What’s your name? I’m Yuuri. Yuuri Katsuki.”

_ Yuuri. _

Viktor loved the way that sounded. Sure, one of the servers was also Yuri, but his name sounded squashed and guttural compared to the unhurried, soft-angled flip of this man’s name.

_ Yuuri. _

“It’s quite a pleasure to meet you,  _ Yuuri,” _ he said, taking great care to form his embouchure around the syllables, like drawing a silk ribbon from between his lips. “I’m Viktor. I’ll be here to take care of anything you may need.”

He leaned forward on his elbows to flip through Yuuri’s menu as he spoke, turning to the pages that corresponded to his recommendations.

“If you like green, I would highly recommend the  _ gyokuro. _ It’s shade-grown and never matured past twenty days. Drink this, and you’ll feel as princely as you look! If not, we have a beautiful and delicate Darjeeling first flush—that just means it’s the first crop of leaves to be picked for the season, or a  _ quangzhou _ milk oolong, which tastes creamy and sweet without adding anything.”

He looked up to make sure Yuuri was following; he often ran the risk of bloviating or running away with his own excitement when it came to tea. Once again, he was struck by how beautiful this quiet, rosy-cheeked man was.

“Of course, my personal favorites are the  _ pu-erh _ teas. They’re sort of different. They’re aged in big bricks and were once used as currency. Very warm and earthy. I highly recommend the  _ chi tse bing cha. _ ”

Yuuri giggled; it was like champagne bubbles, and Viktor was instantly drunk.

“Feel as princely as I look? Aren’t you the charmer. I’m probably more of a glasses-type than a prince-type, don’t you think? You look much more like a prince than me—the most regal I’ve ever seen, and the cu—”

The words seemed to choke out before Yuuri could say them. His words seemingly ahead of him, he clapped a hand to his mouth, his cheeks going a particularly soft twinge of crimson. Viktor felt his own face begin to burn. Just what was he about to say? But before he could stammer out a response, this  _ Yuuri Katsuki _ seemed to compose himself and gave him another warm smile, and all of his worries were washed away.

“I… just the gyokuro for now.” His impish face was no way reflected in the salve of his voice. It just wasn’t fair. “And maybe… a bit of your time? If it wouldn’t be too troublesome? I don’t know many people in this town outside of my job. It doesn’t have to be… I mean, like a date, but not like a  _ date _ date, like… just… oh my god, sorry no, um… Do you have some time to sit and talk?” 

“Oh? What? Really? Yes please!” Viktor rambled, completely forgetting how to write and scribbling nonsense in his notebook. “Gyokuro, and I’ll see what I can do about that date.”

“Not a date!” Yuuri groaned over an unmistakable giggle. Viktor rushed back to the counter, hardly able to contain himself as he prepared a teapot and all of the necessary accessories.

Gyokuro was a fast but mild brew. Viktor kept the water temperature low and lit a small candle beneath the pot to keep it warm. He sprinkled a pinch of dark green rolled leaves into a little  _ gaiwan _ and gathered the rest of his accessories—which included  _ two _ teacups.

He returned to another smile, still nervous but a bit more daring, a bit more open despite the red that was deepening in his cheeks.

“I’m sorry to inform you that we’re all out of dates in the back,” Viktor said, fighting to keep a straight face as he knelt down and taking care to set the tea tray down without any spillage. “We have sultanas and prunes if you’d like.”

Yuuri hid his face in his hands. “No you don’t,” he groaned. “You really brought two cups!”

“I really wanted to sit with you,” Viktor admitted. “I want to know who thinks they can come into my shop and pick me out like one of the desserts in the bakery case.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. Viktor could see it from behind his fingers, and with that he couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore. 

“Joking! Joking!”

“So rude to a paying customer,” Yuuri shot back, and Viktor’s shoulders softened with relief to see the playful expression return to his face. “That’ll be reflected in my  _ Yelp _ review.”

Viktor snorted, his hands shaking from poorly-concealed laughter as he poured water into the lidded cup, then into the teacup. He passed the second pour through a small mesh strainer to catch any remaining leaves before holding the cup out for Yuuri to take and then poured his own.

He hadn’t known that he had been lonely. He never felt lonely, cooped up inside the tea house. He considered the colleagues with whom he shared everything to be some of his best friends, even if they were the only people he really interacted with. Well, there was Christophe, who tended bar across the street and offered discounted drinks for neighboring small business owners. They had gone out on occasion in the past, but Viktor was mainly just another one of his customers.

He wondered if he could consider Yuuri more than that someday.


	2. Lemon Balm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Melissa officinalis). A perennial herbaceous plant in the mint family Lamiaceae and native to south-central Europe, the Mediterranean Basin, Iran, and Central Asia, but now naturalized in the Americas and elsewhere. The leaves are used as a herb, in teas, and also as a flavouring. The plant is also used to attract bees for honey production.

Sunset cast long shadows over the tea shop, threaded with peachy, golden rays that warmed everything. Viktor liked the evening crowd. It was mainly students coming in to study and a few working-types looking to relax after a long day. It was quieter than in the daytime, even though it was usually more crowded. Viktor never minded the fatigue that the day’s end brought. Nights like this were cozy and casual.  
The bell signaled another customer, and Viktor turned to see Yuuri, looking as handsome as ever in a charcoal-gray suit. He dragged himself across the doorframe and appeared to be slowly melting into the floor. Viktor knew his days at the office were long and full of important meetings with important people, the likes of which drained him of his energy by the end of the week. He sat in one of the private areas, and Viktor could see through one of the Moroccan-arch windows that he was just barely fighting to stay awake.  
“Well, look who it is,” Viktor said with a smile, setting the menu and bell down on Yuuri’s table. “We have a new kabusecha green tea in today. Would you like to try it?”  
“Viktor,” Yuuri breathed, a smile pulling at his drooping cheeks. “Hey there. Something relaxing. It’s been a day.”  
Viktor smiled, patting Yuuri’s hand as he picked the menu back up. “I have just the thing. Ring if you need anything, okay?”  
“Okay,” Yuuri mumbled, shifting on his pouf until he was almost horizontal. “This might sound strange, but… do you have any blankets?” he asked.  
Viktor did have blankets. He had a whole cot, actually, tucked away in the back room. He joked with staff that it was for the days that he had consecutive closing and opening shifts. Everyone seemed to take it at face value. No one ever pointed out that he opened and closed every day.  
“If I didn’t know any better, it would sound to me like you’re trying to sleep in my shop,” he chuckled. “I have a sweater in the back room. It’ll be a little big for you, even with that lovely blazer, but you’re welcome to use it.”  
“Perhaps,” Yuuri said, taking off his blazer, “or perhaps I just want to enjoy your presence.” He pushed himself back up to sitting and draped the jacket around Viktor’s shoulders.  
The jacket smelled lovely, like sandalwood and something subtly floral, even though it barely fit across Viktor’s back.  
“Oh, are we trading?” he laughed. “I thought you were cold! Give me a moment.” He left briefly and returned with a Tuscany-yellow sweater he’d worn in the chilly morning as he opened up shop. It was big, even on him. He had to admit that he was excited to see Yuuri in it, his delicate hands tucked into the wide cuffs as he snuggled into it on his pouf.  
“Here, this may as well be a blanket for how it’s going to fit you.” He smiled, removing the blazer from his shoulders and hanging it neatly on the hook outside of the tea room. “A little tea will get you warmed up.”  
Yuuri put on the sweater, and Viktor had to bite his lip to suppress the squeal that was threatening to escape his throat.  
“This is the best…” Yuuri hummed, sinking to the floor with his head resting in his arms on the leather cushion. “Thank you, Viktor.”  
Viktor felt his cheeks burn a bit. “Of course, dear Yuuri,” he said with a smile. “Let me get you that tea.”  
He didn’t realize until the tea was almost finished brewing five minutes later that he still hadn’t stopped smiling. He could see through the Moroccan-arch window that Yuuri was smiling too. It felt… nice. He never believed he was deserving of such unassuming charm and vulnerability, such trust and kindness. He was so used to the numbness of working day in and day out, the constant worry of his bank account rapidly hurtling towards red chewing away at the corners of his subconscious.  
But never when Yuuri was there. Around Yuuri, everything seemed good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next two chapters will be available next month and will introduce a little angst _and_ a little backstory!!

**Author's Note:**

> This work began as an RP with the lovely [tearsandice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearsandice), but we fell in love with the setting and the characters and we decided to share it!!! I hope you like the cute and cozy--the tea shop is based on my favorite writing spot where, yes, beautiful boys really do kneel on the floor to serve tea and sweets in private tea rooms with beaded curtains.


End file.
